With Benefits
by starhawk2005
Summary: House is going to make Jimmy pay for annoying him.


**With Benefits **

**Author: starhawk2005**

**Summary: House is going to make Jimmy pay for annoying him.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were, I'd make them run (ok, limp, in House's case) around naked all the time.  
Author Notes: Slightly spoilery for the 'Autopsy' ep of House.**

Wilson is shoved back against the wall so fast, he doesn't know what hit him.

Except he does.

_House._

"I'm tired of your nagging," House rasps, leaning heavily into Wilson. "If I have to put up with all the crap that's coming out of your mouth, I figure I may as well get to experience its _good_ side, too. So get on your knees."

Wilson is floored. Frozen.

"Move it, Jimbo. We're not going to be alone in your office forever. Cuddy and her big jugs will want me to be present for Andi the Super-Cancer-Girl's departure from our hallowed halls. So get on your knees, _now_."

Wilson thinks he gets it. House knows Wilson was right. But rather than admit it, he'd rather make Wilson pay for it.

_Yeah. I was wrong; she genuinely is a self-sacrificing saint whose life will bring her nothing but pain, which she will stoically withstand just so that her mom doesn't have to cry quite so soon. I'm beside myself with joy. _

_She enjoys life more than you do._

_Right._

_She stole that kiss from Chase. What have _you_ done lately?_

Wilson doesn't move, doesn't respond, just continues to stare at House. And he hopes House doesn't notice that he's getting _aroused_ by this. That's the last thing Wilson needs.

"Why are you still standing there? The door's locked, the blinds are closed, and I gave you an order. You asked 'What have I done lately'? Well, I decided I'm going to 'do' _you_. So chop-chop." House makes a dramatic hand gesture, eyes dark with rage and something that Wilson thinks is lust. He isn't sure if he's happy or frightened by that.

They have a special relationship, yes. But it's a special _friendship_. Wilson doesn't want to take it any further than that. House is plenty capable of hurting him _now_, from arm's length away.

So he lies (everybody does). "I'm not gay. I don't like you that way, House."

House rolls his eyes, leaning in way too close again. "Of course you're not. You're _bi_. You cheated on your first wife with another man, and your second wife with another woman _and_ man. So, for the last time, get on your fucking knees." That's when House grabs Wilson by the hair.

"Ow!" Wilson yelps, but it's cut-off by House's mouth coming down hard on his, tongue silencing him. Oh crap, this is bad, he has to get the heck out of here, turn tail and run before House notices-

House's hand finds the throbbing bulge in Wilson's pants, massaging it roughly, and Wilson moans brokenly into his mouth.

House pulls back, eyes darker than before. "Oh yeah, you want this," he says smugly. "You like being treated this way. I should've known."

This time, House doesn't need to pull on Wilson's hair or even order him to comply. Wilson just finds himself, dazed, on his knees. Wondering how the Hell he got there.

And what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he's eye-level with the rather impressive bulge House is sporting.

Yes, he's always enjoyed having sex with both women and men, but moving from friendship to friendship-with-benefits with House is such a very very bad idea-

"I'm glad you're enjoying the view, Jimmy, but I'm sure you'll enjoy it better unobstructed. Unzip me. Now."

He wants to disobey. Wants to get up and leave. He knows he really should.

But the truth is, Wilson wants _this_, too. He's known House for years. House is special. There's no one else like him on the planet. And certainly his best friend understands him better than anyone else in Wilson's life – including his three former wives – ever have.

He reaches up and pops the button on House's jeans.

"_Mazel Tov_, Jimmy. That's the first right thing you've done. Keep it up, and I might let you have an orgasm of your own before we leave here."

Wilson doesn't trust himself to answer, just unzips his best friend's pants. He doesn't want to think about this any more. Doesn't want to examine his conflicting emotions. He just wants to give in, do whatever House asks of him.

"Now take me out," House orders, voice rough with impatience. Wilson does, pulling House's thick cock out with some difficulty.

"So, let's see that _good_ side of your mouth," House whispers, limping over to lean against Wilson's desk.

Wilson crawls over – not even caring that he _is_ crawling – and does what House wants. He closes his eyes, taking House in, running his tongue over him. Musky, salty. He runs his palms over the soft, worn denim of House's jeans, always careful of his thigh.

House is making low growling sounds in his throat, eyes closed tightly, and when Wilson looks up at him, he thinks that his own balls are going to explode just from the sight of House like this.

Speaking of balls, Wilson cups House's, stroking them lightly. He takes House into his mouth as deep as he can, before pulling back and sucking just at the head.

House whispers a low curse, then grabs Wilson by the back of the neck, moving in and out of his mouth with short sharp strokes.

When House spills onto his tongue a few moments later, hot and salty, Wilson has a chance to feel nervous again. What's House going to do now?

"Get up," is the answer he gets. Wilson does, legs aching from his kneeling position, balls aching in an entirely different way.

He steels himself, waiting for more verbal abuse. Maybe a comment on what a whore he is. Maybe a blow-by-blow (no pun intended) diagnosis of his cocksucking technique. Maybe House'll just tuck himself back in, give Wilson a whap across the ass with his cane, and then limp out the door like nothing's happened.

Instead, House grabs him around the back of the head again, and yanks him in for a sloppy kiss.

Wilson has to lean on both House and the desk, his knees turning to water, as House yanks his head back by the hair, stubble burning Wilson's jaw and throat as he moves his oral attentions to a new spot. "You're liking this, aren't you, Jimmy? You've wanted me for awhile."

Wilson can't answer, he can only moan as deft fingers fingers go to work on the fly of his pants. Thank God he wore boxers today.

"Your mouth says _mmmmrrrrrrrrmmmmm_, but your cock is saying 'yes'," House purrs evilly, teeth nipping at an earlobe.

Callused fingers claim Wilson almost brutally, stroking along the length of him, and he has to bite back a louder moan, hunching his hips into his best friend's hand. House has Wilson's tie loosened and his collar undone in the next heartbeat, and Jim's trying not to worry about the fact that House is surely leaving a large hickey on his collarbone.

House's hand rasps faster over his shaft, squeezing and stroking, his other hand sliding beneath Wilson's balls to cleverly work against his perineum, and Wilson can't hold back any more, can't slow down even if he wanted to.

Which he doesn't.

He climaxes with a muffled curse of his own, come spurting out of him and hitting the front of his desk. Still, it's better than splattering all over House's pants. He's not sure he wants to find out what kind of punishment House would give him for _that_, if a lesser offense like 'nagging' is going to be disciplined with a blowjob.

Wilson sags and has to stumble back to sit on his couch, watching dazed as House produces a wad of Kleenex from somewhere and drapes it over the tip of his cane, using that to get most of the come off the desk. Or trying to, anyways. Maybe House is _really _just trying to smear it around. Either way, Wilson will never look at that desk the same way again.

"Well Jimmy, I have to say, your mouth _does_ have its good side. Guess you'll know what to expect if you start nagging me again, don't you?"

Numbly, Wilson nods, wondering what exactly that cryptic statement is supposed to mean. Does House want this to happen again?

And more importantly, does _he_?

That's when House limps over, grabs Wilson by the tie, and uses it to make Wilson stand up again.

House gives him another tonsil-deep kiss that leaves him breathless, and then leans to Wilson's ear, stubble burning along his cheek once more. "I hope you _will_. Start nagging me again, that is. Be a shame to let a mouth like that go to waste."

He smirks and fixes Wilson's clothes for him, then hitches over to the door, giving Wilson a salute before he opens it and limps his rapid way into the hallway. "Minions! Where the crap are you?" Wilson hears him bellow.

Seems that House _doesn't _always lie.


End file.
